A Mixed Bag

The camper was packed with the essentials. The usual, fishing gear, bait, food and drink.

It was a bloody disgrace, I'd not cleaned it out since the last trip in November, but I have to admit I like going feral sometimes.

I reached the river at dawn and was greeted with topping fish and dozens of cormorants. I really don't know how long the rivers can keep taking this endless battering from the dreaded " Black Death".

Tackling up with a very small feeder and half a lob worm in pursuit of a perch or two, I started off with a couple of smallish perch, then a better one,  followed by a few skimmers and proper silver bream. I do like a silver bream, especially when they're of decent size and these were....maybe 8 - 12 oz I guess.

It's a funny place to fish. The locals are very friendly, but you don't half have some funny comments along with the usual " Do you eat them ?" type stuff.

I had "Are you using grass as bait" from one woman. 

Another said, and this is word for word, "Do the swans swish the fish in for you?". Honestly, WTF does does that even mean ?

An angler next to me said "That great crested grebe is making an unusual call". I said to him it was an ornamental duck not a grebe. He said     " No, its a grebe with his silver winter coat ".

I went over to him, smashed his rod over my knee, hit him with a viscious uppercut and chucked him head first in the river.

Actually, I didn't, but should have.

Back to the fishing. Loads more skimmers, some very decent roach ( what matchman would call " dog roach " ) and one clonking rudd.

The skimmers carried on chomping my hard won lobworms, even when I changed from a half lob on a size 10 to two on a size 6.

Still, it's January, you can't complain when the quiver is constantly rattling and you're getting action on and off all day can you ?

Bully was further upstream and was also having plenty of fish, so it was another enjoyable day out.

Keeping The Gunpowder Dry

It's been bloody freezing this week, nightime frosts, sunny, but bitterly cold in the day, with the rivers in flood to boot.

For once, I made a sensible decision. Work this week and then fish all next week and beyond, if the forecast is correct. If.

When I say work, I mean two to four hours a day, let's not get carried away.

I've been prepping the gear and stocking up. Found some very nice mini cage feeders which are perfect for "the job".

Wums

Last Sunday we had a rogue day when the temperature rose to eleven degrees for literally a few hours. I was out worming that evening and there were loads everywhere. 

I was not on top of my game and missed too many, but still came back with about eighty. If my back could take more than about an hour of it I could have filled my boots.

I've liquidised and frozen a few, along with some dendras and redworms from the compost heap, for my perch attack next week, take a look.

Looks a bit nasty eh ? The perch will love it I reckon.

I stocked up on some hooks, ten packets of the old faithful Kamasan B953, put them in an envelope and then chucked the envelope in the bin. What an idiot.

I do like the Guru Feeder hooks for the rudd fishing on the feeder too. Bit lighter gauge than the Kamasans and ultra sharp.

In the garage to sort a bit of gear out, only lasted a few minutes before the old fingers were frozen.

I made some lobworm floats too. Cork body with a fat goose quill top, to take the weight of the worm when you're just tripping the bottom.

Yes, I admit they are ugly and could be finished a bit better but they'll be perfect I reckon. 

Can't wait to back fishing next week, the fire still burns bright.

Back On It

With high winds and heavy rain, followed by very cold frosty weather forecast for the coming week, we decided to get a session in before it deteriorated.

The compost heap had been raided for redworms and brandlings, I'd got a few lobworms , plenty of maggots, corn and bread, so I was prepared for anything that swims.

Perch were the main target though and an area on a bend with slightly deeper water was selected. 

I caught a few litluns for the livebait rod and within half hour missed a take. The stab marks identified the culprit as a zander.

Shortly afterwards I was in again. At first  thought I was snagged, but a couple of head shakes told another story.  This was obviously a pike and a very big one.

At this point one of the hoardes of lure anglers thought it would be a good idea to cast over my line. I shouted to him that he'd snagged me but he continued to insist that he'd got a fish on. His lure appeared , twisted round my line and seconds later the fish was off.

I was not happy.

Out with the feeder rod. Immediate bites. Decent roach, skimmers, silver bream, lots of perch and few rudd. The bigger perch seemed to be absent.

Out of nowhere I hooked a bigger one, a lovely fish of 2lb 2oz in prime condition. Lovely. 

It certainly was busy. Walkers, dogs, tourists, boats, cormorants, the most stupid swans in the country and the dreaded lure anglers.

In addition to the bloke who cost me the pike, I had one who cast directly in my swim, a gap in the boats on the far bank. 

"Oh" he said, " I didn't realise you were fishing that far out ". That's OK then.

Another bloke in an inflatable with an electric outboard was working the far bank, vertically jigging as he went. He actually stopped right in my swim. I looked up and saw him and told him to, err, move.

Totally ignored me and carried on fishing.

The discourtesy of many of these anglers is staggering. 

I moved to join Bully for the last hour, who had returned to the "rudd swim". The hungry little fecker.

He was catching nice roach and had had a couple of reasonable rudd, but the shoal certainly seemed to have dispersed.

After brewing fresh tea and cooking up toasties, I managed hook a cracking rudd, which went 2lb 4oz.  Great way to end the session.

The evening was evening better, with the mighty Ipswich beating Chelsea 2-0. Upper Towen !

As a bonus the ongoing shambles at Old Trafford offered more amusement as they crashed to another defeat against Newcastle. 

A great day.

Back Again

You should never return too quickly to the scene of a great victory. But of course, we do.

The last session on the big Fenland river had been playing on my mind. I wanted a few more of those rudd. Pure greed.

Bully wanted more too. He made a token effort of saying he was going to try a different area to " find the roach". He soon changed his mind when I said I was going in the same swim for the rudd.

I arrived early and after a slowish start the bites started, quality fish between a pound and just over 2lb.

My swim died after a few hours and Bully started to catch a bit further downstream, an even better stamp with his two best 2lb 7oz and 2lb 10oz.  Incredible fishing.

As the rudd had disappeared for me, I decided to see if I could wangle out a perch or two.

On went a bunch of worms. I was soon getting bites, skimmers and smallish perch and then hit into something bigger. 

I thought bream but hoped perch. An absolute stonker of a perch of 2lb 15oz, well chuffed with that. Next cast and another nice one of 1lb 11oz.

I text Dicky Boy, who was laid up ill in bed, with photos and updates. He was doing his nut, cursing on missing out on a great day. Job done. What bastards we are to our mates sometimes. 

We sat there catching all day and ended up with thirty five big rudd between us, those two clonking perch, plus roach, skimmers and smaller perch.

Another brilliant day.

And yes, we're going to go back for another go next week.

Red Letter Day

Sometimes you need a bit of luck. 

About a month ago me and Dicky Boy were fishing a large Fenland river. We picked an area that we subsequently found out wasn't quite right and at the end of the day I walked about two hundred yards downstream and watched a bloke catch roach one a chuck.

Without being unkind to him, he didn't look a great angler and I made a mental note of the spot.

The day after Bully said he was going to the same stretch.  I told him exactly where the bloke was catching the roach and advised him to fish there.

As it happened, the spot was taken, so he plonked himself a bit further downstream and ended up having a great day with decent sized rudd, with the biggest couple going over 2lb.

Two weeks later me and Dicky returned, in roughly the area Bully fished. Bully is much like Christopher Columbus, in that he doesn't know where he's going and doesn't remember where he's been , so getting the exact spot proved hopeless.

It was bloody freezing, maybe 4 degrees C and bright with a cold wind.

I tackled up a small feeder and cast towards the boats moored on the far side.

A bite first cast. Missed of course, but a sign of things to come. In short, it was an incredible day, where I had over thirty rudd, with nothing smaller than a pound and a quarter, with the biggest going 2lb 9oz. 

The biggest fourteen rudd went 31lb 1oz. The stamp of fish was incredible. 

The fish were ultra tightly shoaled. Dicky was fifteen yards away and didn't have a single rudd, despite having plenty of far bank cover.

For some reason they were packed in and under one particular boat and I was lucky enough to be in front of it.

I gave Dicky a go in my swim and he immediately had two big rudd, both over 2lb. A few yards made all the difference.

Dicky also tried downstream, tight against the next moored boat, but to no avail. It was pure luck we stumbled on exactly where they were.

I phoned Bully and told him what we'd had and he said the only thing he could remember about his swim, was the colour and name of the boat opposite. Yes, the very same one I was facing as we spoke on the phone. 

I ended up with twelve rudd over two pounds, with a couple an ounce under that mark and countless others. 

The best day I've had in a while and something I'll do very well to repeat.

Making Hay...

Started this week on the new "club stretch", lots of nice roach on bread with many bites missed.

Then I made the most of the wet weather and went worming. Took a while to find them but some were absolute monsters.

Wednesday it was up to the Fens with Dicky Boy. Very very cold, but a stream of cheese, ham and onion toasties , courtesy of the magnificent Ridge Monkey, made things better. One nice zander for me and some nice roach and skimmers for Dicky Boy. 

Thursday on the upper river. First cast, a big chub lost. Bastard !

Got one just over 4lb later out of an incredibly snaggy swim.

Friday and the river looked perfect and I stayed local. Ten minutes from the house and I was fishing. Bites in most swims, it was great to see the quiver jagging round and I ended up with six nice chub. Lovely bit of fishing.

I don't think I'll be out as much next week, heavy rain will give us the first proper flood of the winter for sure.

Typical lower Stour chub

The Chairman's Address....

It's that time of year again. A few weeks until the solstice, the Christmas consumerist madness in full flow and time to reflect and plan.

This is what I blogged this time last year...

It's very rare for things to go according to plan but incredibly all of those dreams came to fruition. 

A brace of five pound Suffolk Stour chub, with the biggest an ounce under 6lb, some lovely tenching in Norfolk, stunning asp fishing on three Dutch rivers and the icing on the cake, lots of two pound plus roach from the mighty Waal. So many that I didn't take photos of them all, mad fishing.

When you've been fishing for fifty years you can't realistically expect to beat more than one or two PBs a year, but this year I managed seven. Yes, I'm Bertie Big Bollocks.

Two new species too, grass carp and bluenose.  Well chuffed with them, especially as the grassie went 23lb 14oz and was caught on perch gear.

Those most enjoyable fishing was without doubt surface fishing for asp. When they hit the lure under the rod tip I was reduced to shaking like a shitting dog with excitement. It didn't half make you jump.

The biggest fish weighted two ounces under 10lb, came in the half light of dawn and hit the lure with such ferocity that both sets of trebles were mangled.

I managed over sixty nights away fishing in the camper, a couple of foreign trips and lots of short close to home jaunts.

A fantastic dace trip in late winter with The Chubmeister General, trotting on a small stream in perfect conditions and almost a bite a chuck.

Chuck in some nice river perch, some lovely crucian fishing in spring and Fenland rudd and its been a good year.

That said, since September I've caught nothing of note, but you can't win 'em all.

What of 2025 ?

Well, I've booked a ferry to Northern Spain in March/April, five weeks of fishing and hopefully some warm weather.

Hoping for black bass, various species of barbel ( and one on the dry fly ) and maybe zander and pike, but who knows, we'll see.

I'm heading for the big rivers and barrages of Extremadura and then Andalusia. Maybe.

I've fished in Spain but not those regions so I'll learn as I go along.

In the summer we might go back to Sweden/Norway if I can face the drive. Alternatively we might try France or even be tempted back to Holland and Belguim.

I'd like a double figure dace before the season is out, a six pound Stour chub and some big perch. Please. 

Don't really care as long as I can get out fishing. Lots.

Lots of "I did this" and "I did that", but the trips were made more special fishing with the likes of Bully Boy, Bazza, Waaak, Dicky Boy, Cooky, The Chubmeister General, Pike Man and S.

I salute you all, Brothers of the Angle.